Lost and Found
by fantasymonk
Summary: Baywatch Nights fic; Mitch and Ryan help a little girl who has lost everything


Lost and Found

A Baywatch Nights fanfic

By: fantasymonk

Summary: Mitch and Ryan help a little girl who has lost everything

Mitch Buchannon steered his SUV along the coastal road, humming to himself in the growing twilight. There were very few street lamps along the way, but he knew the road so well he wasn't worried. He'd been a lifeguard in the area all of his working life, and so he cruised along without an apparent care until he glanced over at the brown Adidas jacket on the seat next to him, and a horrible thought seemed to occur. He freed his right hand from the wheel and patted his pants pockets, pulling to a stop on the side of the road. The jacket was grabbed and given a thorough pat down as well, and with a sigh of relief he pulled out a wallet from the right-hand pocket. A chuckle and a grin accompanied the find.

"Gonna need this," he said to himself, looking pleased as he put the jacket back down with the wallet on top. He preened a bit, straightening the button up shirt he wore and making sure his curls were in place by glancing in the rearview mirror. Out of the corner of his eye a flash of light attracted his attention, and he turned his gaze directly to the left where, across the road and on the beach, some movement was occurring. Curiosity heightened, the part-time P.I. shut off the engine and eased out of his vehicle, crossing the empty road in almost-darkness now. Thankfully it was a clear night, with some starlight guiding his way, even with only a sliver of moon to work with. He could make out an outcropping of rocks with figures standing on them and hear raised voices, but the actual words weren't clear. Mitch eased forward slowly, not wanting his own movement to attract their attention, especially with very little actual cover in the area. Keeping his tall frame low to the ground, he crept a few feet closer before coming to a stop with a watchful eye. Without warning, a muffled sound disturbed the silence, and one of the figures dropped to the rocks and didn't move. Mitch crouched down instinctively at the gunshot and then began creeping backward without letting his gaze leave the unknown figures. He needed to get to his vehicle and his phone to report the murder. But any plans he had came to a complete stop as a shriek filled the air.

"Daddy!" A small figure in faded jeans and a thin hoodie came flying out from somewhere in the rocks, wispy blonde hair bouncing around its head. Mitch's breath caught as the child dropped to its knees beside the body and began crying without any regard for the men still standing there with guns drawn. It didn't take a genius to figure out what their next move would be; any witness to the deed couldn't be allowed to tell tales, and the lifeguard's first instinct was for the child's safety. With only that thought in mind he raised up and jogged forward, letting the soft sand keep his steps silent, hoping their attention would be distracted just long enough. One man reached down to grab a small arm and pulled up, causing the child to lurch upward with a cry of pain. Mitch made out three dimly lit faces from twelve feet away and a gun coming upward.

"Hey!" he yelled desperately, the unexpected sound causing them all to freeze for a few seconds and turn toward him. Thankfully, his long stride made that enough time as he punched the thug holding the kid, sending him on his back before he shouldered the other two off their feet. He grabbed a small hand and lifted the kid into his arms, startled but grateful when little arms and legs wrapped around him tightly. "Hold on," he murmured before running away, not toward his vehicle, where there would be a clear shot at them, but along the beach and toward a pier he knew was there. There was a clamoring behind them as the men began recovering from his sudden appearance and slipped around a bit on the wet rocks, likely a bit bruised and battered from falling. He was running with fear and desperation, not for himself but for the kid, long legs eating up ground. If he could just divert their attention to him, maybe he could keep the kid safe. Mitch dropped to his knees and unwound the little body from his torso. Startled brown eyes stared at him.

"Don't leave me!" Now he could tell the voice belonged to a little girl of about ten years, and he soothed her with a hand on the back of her neck.

"I'm not going to leave you darlin', I'm going to lead them off. I need you to run up the beach toward the road, there's a dune there, and if you lay down they won't see you. You need to keep quiet no matter what, okay? Can you do that?" She nodded, chin trembling a little. He smiled at her reassuringly and nudged her a bit. "Go fast as you can!" He stood up and watched the pale hair grow dimmer in the starlight and then disappear. Satisfied she was hidden, he began jogging down the beach again, seeing dim figures coming closer. He was grateful now for his khaki pants and the cream shirt he wore, since they would help draw attention to him. A voice called out as he was spotted and Mitch began running in earnest. The sand spattered at his feet as one of them shot at him, and he quickly changed angles, setting course toward the ocean. If he could get into the water he stood a much better chance than in the open. It took the goons a few minutes but they seemed to figure out what he was after, startled shouts and more shots splattering the lifeguard with sand. But Mitch was already past the shallows and diving into the chilly water, coming up yards from the beach and setting off with strong movements of his arms. He was eager to get as much distance as possible between himself and the armed men, hoping they would be reluctant to get in a nighttime swim. Thankfully his gamble paid off, and he grinned to himself as he heard them shouting at each other on the beach. The smile was quickly wiped off as the water around him erupted with movement, wild shots being aimed in his general direction. Judging by the sound of splashing projectiles, the murderers were trying to silence him as well, and Mitch didn't dare stop. Onshore, all three men emptied their guns at the ocean. They ejected the spent magazines and reloaded, ears straining for sound. Small ears further up the beach were also desperate to hear what was going on, her hands over her mouth as the girl waited to hear what had happened to her rescuer. She was rewarded with a small series of sounds: a strained cry and a gulping splash, as if the ocean were swallowing something. She wanted to cry out and run to the water, but was trying to be brave and follow the command she'd been given. It took all the courage she possessed, but she didn't move or make a peep.

"I think we got him!" said the shortest of the men as they peered at the dark water. No further sound was heard, nor could they see even the dim outline of a pale figure out there.

"But we lost the kid, we're still in trouble you idiot. We can't let her tell anyone, we'd better find her or we'll regret it." They started toward the shoreline and searched under the pier, although the deeper shadows, where the starlight couldn't reach, eluded their eyesight. One of them gave a sound of disgust.

"Ugh, the kid isn't here!" A second man waved them back out.

"Get back to the rocks. There are no houses for miles, he wasn't here on foot dressed like that. We'll find his vehicle and see what there is." They walked back the way they had come from, and after long minutes of silence, a blonde head popped up from behind the sand, eyes darting back and forth. When she saw no movement, the girl crept out of hiding and walked toward the ocean, eyes looking nervously in the direction the thugs had gone. A trace of movement from the corner of her eye made her jump, and she stifled a gasp with both hands as a shadowed figure came from out of the water amid the pilings, staggering to shore and falling to its knees. She then recognized the pale clothing of her rescuer and ran over to him.

"You didn't leave me!" She was still careful to be quiet as she voiced the joyous thought, skidding to a stop right in front of him. He smiled up at her, obviously glad to see she was okay.

"You did good, I'm proud of you." A hand reached up to gently probe his temple, where she noticed a gash trickling blood made pink by the water streaming from his hair.

"You're hurt! They shot you!" A vision of him falling dead in front of her, just like her father, filled her mind, and she began to tremble. Mitch started to shake his head and stopped in mid-movement as the world spun.

"I'm okay, it's all right." He closed his eyes briefly to keep away a sense of light-headedness. He did feel a bit off, stomach a little queasy and body chilled, but he attributed the latter at least to the cold water he'd been in for almost half an hour. It looked like a little shock was already setting in, though. "When those guys are gone, we'll get back to my vehicle and I'll phone the police." She nodded solemnly, watching him with determined closeness as if he would die if she shifted her gaze away. "My name's Mitch, Mitch Buchannon. What's yours?" he asked, hoping to distract her while they waited. He kept his voice hushed to help her remember to be quiet.

"I'm Abby Michaels." She put out a small hand to shake his, making him smile.

"Nice to meet you Abby." Mitch glanced toward the rocks, but the distance made it hard to see if the men were still there, and his vision kept going out of focus. He turned his attention back to her. "We'll just sit here, the sand is nice and soft isn't it?" She smiled at him, seeming to feel safer now, and sat down next to him. He tried to hide his shivering, barely rubbing his arms to help keep some warmth in the chilled skin under his wet clothes. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, watching the rocks like he had been.

"I think I see them going away!" She straightened up just a little, evidently peering hard. "There's a light up near the road, but they aren't there anymore. Let's go look!" She jumped up, and without thinking Mitch began to rise too. But the sudden shift in position made his head spin again and he sank back, half reclining, clamping his lips tight against the pounding in his head. Abby had run a few steps and looked back to grin at him, but instead of seeing him following her, her tall friend was collapsing instead. She rushed back, a small hand placed lightly on his shoulder. "Don't die!" she pleaded. He wanted to reassure her, but could only try his best to breathe at first. Eyes closed, he waited for the dizzy feeling to pass.

"I'm all right, really, but I won't be moving for a bit." He hated to ask it of her, but they needed to know if the men really were gone. "Could you go very quietly up to the road and look for my vehicle? See if those guys really are gone? My phone will be in there too." He lightly massaged the bridge of his nose before looking up at her. She nodded, eager to be of help.

"I can do that Mitch. I'll be right back." And before he could say anything else, he heard her muffled footsteps receding. With a groan he allowed himself the luxury of lying down, and then fell into oblivion.

Abby crept carefully up the beach and past the sand dune she had hidden behind, keeping a wary eye out for any sign of movement. As she got closer to the road, she could see the distant light had been from the open door of an SUV, the soft glow lighting the road around it. Figuring that to be Mitch's, she trotted over, glancing back and forth without seeing any sign of the men who had been chasing them. Inside was an Adidas jacket and a wallet with money and cards strewn everywhere, but no sign of a phone. She grabbed the jacket first, slipping her arms into the large, warm folds of brown material and huddling into it. Then she picked up the scattered items as best she could and stuffed them into the wallet, slipping it into the front pocket of her hoodie before heading back to Mitch. As Abby came closer to the pier, she could make out a tall form stretched out on the sand. But when he didn't say anything as she got closer, the girl became worried again.

"Hey Mitch?" She got to her knees beside him, shaking him on a wet shoulder. It was then she noticed the slight tremors going through him and realized how cold he was. Reluctant to give up the oversized warm jacket at first, she slowly took it off. But as she looked down at him, clutching the material in her hands, she knew he needed it more than she did. With great care, she laid the jacket over him, tucking in the sides at the arms and around his neck. With a soft yawn Abby curled up on the sand, her back pressed against Mitch's left arm, and fell asleep.

Ryan was seated at her desk in the agency the next morning, glaring over at an empty chair. Garner Ellerby was out of town visiting some relatives for a couple of weeks, which left her and Mitch to run the agency. But the evening before, her absent partner had gone out on a date and hadn't come in yet. The female investigator continued to glare, unable to purge the thought of a thoroughly self-serving Mitch sleeping in, while she was responsible and came in on time, only to end up by herself with nothing to do. Oh, to be carefree and irresponsible… But no, she was as straight-laced as they came. Sighing, Ryan resumed working with her computer, where she was organizing some files. The doorknob turned, and she looked up, ready to give Mitch a piece of her mind. But instead of the tall, curly-haired lifeguard, a beautiful woman stormed in, looking fit to be tied.

"Is he here?! If he isn't here I swear I will kill him!" She saw Ryan and marched over. "You tell that curly-haired Casanova that I don't appreciate being stood up!" Glaring daggers, she turned on her heel and marched back out, slamming the door behind her. Ryan had a moment of confused staring before she could move again. She knew Mitch had left for the date, because he had called her with a question the previous evening. Five minutes into the phone conversation, he suddenly announced he had to go get ready for his date and hung up on her unceremoniously. With a thoughtful and slightly worried look, she picked up the phone and dialed.

Ryan pushed a strand of hair out of her face as the breeze lifted it, looking around the road where she stood beside Mitch's SUV. Two uniformed officers were nearby, taking notes. The open door and missing owner seemed to indicate foul play of some kind, and she was growing more worried by the minute. Her eye caught a small figure standing down on the beach, seeming to stare in their direction. Thinking maybe they could have a witness, she started across the road and down the sand, glad she'd worn sneakers and jeans today. After a couple minutes of walking, Ryan discovered the figure was a girl, with fingers twisting nervously in the pocket of a hooded shirt.

"Hi, my name is Ryan, and we're looking for the owner of that vehicle up there. Have you seen a guy, really tall with curly hair and blue eyes?" She indicated the height with her hand, puzzled when the large brown eyes just stared solemnly into hers. "Honey, are you all right? Are you lost?" Suddenly a shout from behind her made Ryan look around. One of the officers was standing on a rocky outcropping, waving his arm. The other policeman hurried over, and they conferred urgently, looking down at something. A sniffling sound caught Ryan's ear and she turned again to see the girl beginning to cry, staring at where the officers were talking.

"I don't want him to die like my daddy…" Ryan crouched down at the girl's level, not touching her, but leaning a little closer.

"Who? Is there someone hurt over there?" She pointed to the rocks, but the blonde head shook a negative answer, curls swishing wildly. "That's… my daddy." The little mouth crumpled, but the tears were held back this time. "My friend saved me, but he's hurt too, and…" The girl's voice faded and she stood there with a helpless expression. Ryan straightened up fast, looking back at the abandoned SUV and then down at the girl, doing the math. Oh God. "Where is he sweetie? Where's Mitch?" The girl rubbed at one eye with her right fist, sniffling again. She pointed toward the pier, where the sun was just beginning to touch the sand underneath. Ryan hesitated a few seconds, afraid of what she would find, but then steeled herself and moved. Further in, she saw a familiar figure lying still, normally tanned skin holding a pallor that had never been there before. It only made the garish red blood trails crisscrossing the right side of his face show up better, his form covered by his jacket. She knelt down beside him, staring with horror, half afraid he was actually dead. As she reached out to touch his chest and feel for his heartbeat, his eyes opened and he stared dazedly up at her. Ryan felt the girl's small form standing next to her as she smiled thankfully down at her partner.

"Ryan?" He seemed to see her better then and smiled back, moving slightly under his makeshift covering and attempting to sit up. She put her hand behind his shoulders and helped him up all the way, watching him gasp softly and stop just short of clutching at his head.

"Mitch, what happened?" She tugged his chin to the side to examine the nasty gash marring the skin of his temple. He winced and grabbed her hand, eyes shutting quickly.

"Handle with care please, my stomach is still a little queasy." She let him go, almost reluctant to stop touching him now that he was here and she knew he was alive.

"Are you going to die Mitch?" The question startled Ryan, since she'd forgotten about the blonde girl who'd led her there in the first place. Dark brown eyes seemed to stare down at the injured man with the weight of the world in them. He reached out a hand, and the smaller one clasped it quickly.

"I'll be fine, I promise Abby. You rescued me, you know. You helped Ryan find me." The young girl beamed at the thought that she'd helped the man who had saved her. His dark-haired partner helped him to his feet, and as they walked toward the policemen, that small hand never left his.

"No, we didn't find his body, but I'm sure we hit him. I don't think he could have survived out there too long, and the kid is running scared, she shouldn't be any trouble until we can find her." The man holding the phone paused for a second. "Yeah, there was a business card in the wallet, for a detective agency. According to his ID, he's one of the detectives." The receiver was held away from his ear for a minute as the other person's volume apparently increased. "Well it's not like we planned it!" he fumed back. "Look, his phone didn't show any calls made at that time, so no one could know what happened. Yeah, yeah, we'll go check on things really early tomorrow, see if any hospitals have reported something to the police." There was a minute's pause. "I don't know if they had been following us and have any information, or if it was just a fluke. Yeah, I'll update you later." He hung up, grumbling to himself as he exited the phone booth before waving his cohorts in crime back into their car.

Mitch leaned the back of his head against the headrest of Ryan's vehicle, eyes closed. It was completely silent, much different than the noisy hospital they'd just left. The visit had eaten up their morning, and now that he was more awake he was beginning to feel the hunger pangs of two missed meals. Butterfly bandages held his head wound closed, and after at least two hours of questions, poking, prodding, more questions, and then police questioning, his headache had returned and he was ready to drop. In his pocket was a bottle of pain relievers that he was determined not to use. He was always reluctant to take drugs of any kind unless there was no other choice, but the current circumstance had him more reluctant than usual. Even if he had to live with a headache, he didn't want to be dealing with side effects when the men who had threatened his and Abby's lives were still out there and probably looking for her. Abby had been given a checkup as well, and while she was understandably upset, she seemed to have adapted to the situation remarkably well. There was no telling what she had been through before this; her clothes were clean, but pretty worn. She appeared cared for, but perhaps accustomed to going without. Mitch heard nothing from the back where she was buckled in, and hoped she was doing okay. He was grateful that the girl had been allowed to go home with him for a few days while they tried to locate her family; he preferred her to at least go with someone she knew rather than complete strangers in a foster home. The vehicle came to a stop and Mitch almost groaned, not wanting to open his eyes again or move. Then again, it would be far comfier inside, with clean clothes on and the salt and sand washed off. He was debating the finer points of the argument with himself when he heard his door open. Mitch opened one eye, looking over at Ryan standing there as if he were holding things up. He managed a grin, never able to resist teasing his beautiful partner.

"Have we reached the mansion already James?" he asked, slowly fumbling his seatbelt off. She put a hand to her hip and cocked her head to one side, shaking it bemusedly.

"I'd worry about head injuries and delusions, if I didn't already know you were completely full of it. Come on, Buchannon, time to get out." Her flippant words made him chuckle as he exited the vehicle, taking an extra second to make sure he felt steady as he stood up. Ryan had been almost hovering earlier, as if the shock of seeing him that morning made her aware of how mortal her tall partner actually was. But gradually she'd shifted back into their normal interaction, and he kind of missed having her so close and concerned. There was a tug at his jacket and he saw Abby standing next to him, her hand still on the material where she'd pulled.

"Would you like me to help you inside Mitch?" Her anxious face was turned up to meet his gaze, and he smiled.

"Thank you Abby, that's very considerate of you." He sniffed haughtily in Ryan's direction. "Now here is a little lady who knows how to treat an injured person." Abby giggled, her hand holding his again as she accompanied him to the front door of his house. Ryan merely rolled her eyes at that and went on ahead to unlock the door. She was dropping the keys on the kitchen counter when he and his little helper came inside, a small blonde head turning this way and that and taking in every bit of it she could see.

"This is really nice!" She trotted over to the living area and plopped down on the couch, looking perfectly comfortable. Mitch was happy to see her so relaxed, some of his worry slipping away. He leaned against the kitchen counter, trying to look casual and less tired than he was.

"Ryan, I hope you don't think I'm a bad host, but I really need to get a shower. Can you stay with Abby while I'm upstairs? Maybe fix her something to eat?" She nodded.

"Sure Mitch, we'll be okay, won't we Abby?" The girl responded with a smile and held one thumb up, which made Ryan laugh. "Let's raid Mitch's fridge!" the brunette exclaimed in a loud whisper, and Abby jumped up immediately, both of them quickly huddling in front of the refrigerator's open door. Forgotten for culinary delights, Mitch could only laugh at their antics and trudge up the stairs.

An hour later, after the longest shower Mitch could remember taking, he came back downstairs feeling much more refreshed. The headache had eased up too, and he wore a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt, his slightly damp curls brushing the nape of his neck. Something smelled good as he reached the bottom, and his stomach growled. Coming around to the kitchen, he saw Ryan and Abby sitting at the table with almost empty bowls in front of them.

"I hope you left some for me, I'm starving," he said, lifting the lid off the pot staying warm on the stove. Up wafted a delicious smell of stew, and his eyebrows rose. "Wow, you two went all out, this looks great." They both had turned in their seats as he spoke.

"You're lucky it's still warm, you took so long we thought the bathroom had eaten you," said Ryan, the teasing jab making him grin as Abby's giggle floated toward him.

"Well, I had a night's worth of sand, salt, and headache to wash away. Trust me, it was necessary." He grabbed a bowl and dished himself some late lunch, taking it and a spoon to the table and quickly sitting down to eat. "My God, that's good," he said impulsively, relishing the first bite with obvious enjoyment. "You two can cook for me anytime." Ryan looked pleasantly surprised at the sincere compliment.

"Well thank you Mitch, it was Abby's idea. She thought something hot and comforting would be good today." He kept spooning it into his mouth and nodded his agreement. It really did feel good to have warmth flooding his body again from the inside out. At his lack of verbal response, his partner cocked an eyebrow, resting her chin on her hand. "You might wanna breathe, Mitch…" He did stop for a breath, feeling a bit defensive and guilty at the same time.

"Sorry, I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday. And it really is delicious." His eyes pleaded with her for leniency, and she laughed.

"You're forgiven, stop with the sad face. You keep eating, and Abby can get cleaned up. I'll take care of the kitchen, okay?" Mitch took another bite quickly.

"Mm, sounds good," he said around his mouthful. She made a face at his lack of manners but didn't fuss about it, knowing he'd had a pretty rough night. Abby was quickly set up in the bathroom, and Ryan came back downstairs and began cleaning the kitchen. Mitch sat at the table, finally slowing down after his second bowl of stew. It was very pleasant being warm and full, and listening to the clinking of silverware and bowls as she worked. He made himself stand up finally, taking his bowl and spoon to the sink where Ryan was standing.

"Feeling better now Mitch?" she asked with a smile, quickly cleaning his dishes and setting them in the rack. He nodded and smiled back.

"Yeah, that really hit the spot." The sound of water running stopped upstairs and they both looked up briefly, then laughed at the twin movements. "She could probably use some clean clothes too, but there's nothing to really fit her here." Ryan nodded thoughtfully.

"I could take her out for a bit and get her some new things. Not much, but at least she would be more comfortable." Mitch thought that was a great idea, and said as much.

"Sounds perfect Ryan, she'd probably be happier shopping with you anyway. And while you're gone, I'll see what I can find to keep her entertained. If she's going to stay here for a few days, she might as well have fun." He laughed a little, and Ryan inwardly marveled at how sweet he could be. Sometimes he was the most responsible parental figure you could hope for, and other times he was more a charming playboy. An interesting mix, her partner. The sound of steps thumping down the stairs announced Abby's return, and she bounded around the corner, dressed again in her jeans and hoodie, her curly hair a mass of damp honeyed strands around her face.

"Guess what kiddo! You and I are going shopping," Ryan told her, and the blonde girl beamed happily.

"Really? What are we shopping for?" Ryan grabbed her keys and they went out the door, chatting about clothing stores. Mitch shook his head and chuckled, then headed for the back room to see what he had stored away.

The door opened again an hour and a half later and Ryan and Abby entered Mitch's house, each holding a bag. The girl was practically bouncing with happiness at her new wealth of clothing, and she dashed upstairs with both bags to change into one of the new outfits, each bag bumping against her legs as she moved. Ryan smiled, gazing at the stairs for a minute before looking around. She didn't see Mitch anywhere, but he had to be… Ah, there appeared to be a pair of feet sticking out over the couch's end. The brunette walked over to see him stretched out and dozing, a small stack of assorted items on the coffee table. With a little laugh, Ryan had a sudden realization that the tall lifeguard had never been so still since she first met him; he was usually a font of enthusiastic energy and love of life. She eyed the pile of things he'd gathered together, seeing a few Hardy Boys books, a couple of board games, some family-friendly movies, and a box of coloring pencils with some plain paper. Leaning down, Ryan checked his head, noticing the gash looked clean and had no redness around it. Her fingers brushed lightly through his hair as she thought how peaceful he looked asleep, and surprisingly appealing. Almost as appealing as when he was up and moving, and exuding that warmth and charm he possessed. Mitch shifted a bit and she jerked back, not wanting to get caught in such an obvious concerned gesture. Then again, if he did question her closeness, she could attribute it to an intention of waking him up. It was time he did anyway, since Abby would probably disturb his sleep when she came back down.

"Mitch, wake up, we're back," she said, nudging his shoulder. He snuggled down into the couch a little, looking adorably grumpy as he barely opened his eyes and saw her. A widespread stretch followed before he sat up, rubbing his eyes and running fingers through his hair.

"Oh hey, sorry I fell asleep." He looked a bit sheepish. "There wasn't much to go through, so I got done quickly. I thought I'd be able to sit and wait for you but…" He spread his hands in a comically helpless gesture. "I lost the battle." She giggled softly.

"It's okay, it'll probably be a few days before you're fully yourself again. Abby is upstairs changing, we got her some jeans, a skirt, and several new tops…" She ticked the items off on her fingers. "Just a few nice things." Mitch smiled up at his partner.

"I really appreciate it Ryan. You're helping make the world a little nicer for her, you know." Ryan looked startled, but then nodded with a little pleased twist of her lips. There was that sweet side again, the one that always pulled at her, in spite of her resolution to keep her handsome partner at a safe and friendly distance.

"Well, she deserves it. She's so sweet and loving, it's hard to believe she saw her dad killed just hours ago." Mitch sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.

"I know, she's so trusting of me, of us, that I don't want to let her down. I want to see those guys get what they deserve." Footsteps sounded upstairs and then started down the steps, and they turned to see Abby coming down, beaming in her new tennis shoes, soft acid-washed jeans, and a plain white t-shirt that had 'Lifeguard' written on it in red marker.

"Whoo, nice shirt kiddo!" Mitch grinned. Ryan laughed, the fingers of one hand up to her mouth in amusement.

"Abby, what happened to your shirt? That was just white when I last saw it." The girl giggled, and then looked a little shyly at Mitch.

"Ryan told me you're a lifeguard too, and you saved my life yesterday. I think… that's really cool Mitch, I just wanted a shirt to always remind me of you." Mitch felt his eyes get moist, and he sniffed a little, opening his arms.

"C'mere sweetie." She bounded into the hug, and he smiled over her shoulder at Ryan, who was wiping her eyes too. He gave one last squeeze and then leaned back to grin up at his blonde charge. "Look over there on the table, see if there's anything you'd like to do." Her eyes lit up and she quickly picked up the coloring pencils and began drawing with them.

"Wow, there're so many colors!" He tousled her hair lightly, standing up.

"You have some fun, and I'll be upstairs getting a few things from my room. You can use my bed and I'll bunk on the couch." Abby looked up quickly, startled.

"By myself? I don't want to be by myself. Couldn't I sleep in your room with you?" She looked more subdued now, the coloring pencil in her hand poised over the paper as she looked up at him. Ryan looked between the two of them, noticing Mitch's worried expression. He obviously felt a little trapped, and perhaps a bit uncomfortable at the thought of having Abby share a room with him. Sometimes he could be so old-fashioned, but it was kind of cute.

"You know what Abby, I could stay the night too, and we could have a sleepover down here." Mitch looked over at her, so relieved that she almost laughed. Dark brown eyes lit up again, and Abby straightened up excitedly.

"Really? That would be so fun!"

"I have spare toothbrushes and toothpaste for guests, and there's plenty of room down here Ryan," Mitch chimed in. His partner smiled, glad to be able to help him out.

"Perfect. And I'm sure you have some pajamas or something I can borrow, right? Tonight Abby and I could get together some munchies and put on one of these movies, and just have a nice evening."

"I'm gonna draw us having fun at the sleepover!" Abby exclaimed, and was soon busy again with her coloring pencils and paper. Mitch and Ryan exchanged amused looks, but got started on planning the evening.

In another part of town in a dark office, one of the three murderers was talking on the phone, his voice urgent.

"No, it's confirmed, a guy and kid matching their descriptions were checked out at a local hospital, just got the word. They, uh… were also seen talking to police." That earned him a loud voice in his ear that made him wince. "We'll take care of it first thing in the morning and go to their agency. I know you want to make sure they don't know anything. I guess the kid was taken to some foster home or center of some kind, we'll do some checking on that." He nodded in response to some unheard words. "Got it, I'll call you again tomorrow."

At ten that evening, Ryan and Abby decided on a movie and popped some popcorn in the microwave. Mitch paused on his way up the steps, poking his head around to look in on the pair.

"I'm headed upstairs, you girls have fun and don't stay up too late." He grinned impishly at them, and Ryan rolled her eyes. Abby wore a long shirt of his as a nightgown, and his partner was dressed in a pair of his pajamas, the sleeves and legs rolled up to fit her more petite frame. She looked extremely adorable, and he got in a wink before heading on up and leaving them to their night of fun. His head felt much better, but Mitch still felt a little tired. As he got comfortable for the night though, the sounds of laughter and talking could just be heard, and he lay in his bed with a smile on his face, enjoying having a happy child in the house again. It didn't take long for him to drift off to sleep, but hours later something woke him up, a kind of sense that something was wrong. He glanced at the clock, seeing it was almost two in the morning, and sat up, moving on bare feet to his bedroom door and opening it quietly. There was no further sound, but just to be sure, Mitch decided to look through the first floor and check on the girls. He padded silently down the steps, peeking around to spy Abby sleeping peacefully on a pile of blankets in front of the fireplace, glowing embers giving off vague remnants of heat. There was no sign of Ryan though, and he came further out to get a better look. The front door was closed and looked untouched, and then a hint of sound made him turn. Ryan was standing in front of the stove, keeping an eye on a pot with a wooden spoon in her hand.

"Ryan..?" he whispered, moving toward her. She jumped a little, stifling a yelp behind her hand.

"Mitch, you scared the life out of me," she hissed before turning back to the pot, stirring what looked like hot chocolate. He smirked a bit at her ire, knowing she was just embarrassed at being startled.

"I heard something and thought maybe we had uninvited guests. Good to know it was only you." She looked a bit repentant at realizing she had woken him up, and glanced over to apologize, getting her first look at him in the dim light of the kitchen. He wore only a pair of sleep pants, his hair rumpled from his pillow. She'd seen him on the beach of course, in only his red trunks as a lifeguard, but there was something about the setting; the two of them being in his kitchen in the near-darkness made the sight of soft curls of hair on his chest and down his stomach that much more intimate. Her mouth gaped open for several seconds as she tried to remember how to speak.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mitch," she finally said softly, removing the pot from the heat and pouring some out into a waiting mug, quickly turning off the burner. "I guess being in a strange place makes it a little harder to sleep. I woke up and thought I'd make something to drink before going back to bed." He chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the counter.

"Well, since I'm up, do you have any to spare?" It did look like there was an extra mug's worth in the pot, and the thought of sharing freshly made hot chocolate with his female partner sounded nice. Throughout the conversation they were careful to keep their voices low, not wanting to disturb Abby after she had settled in so well. Ryan nodded.

"Yeah, help yourself." She grabbed her mug and held it in front of her as he got his own from the cabinet and moved close to pour himself some of the steaming drink. She could feel his warmth as he moved beside her and took another step away, sipping at her mug to make it look casual. They'd made a deal after all, one she knew was for the best, because mixing business and personal relationships just made things harder for all concerned. Mitch took a drink of the hot chocolate, putting the now empty pot on an unused burner, and made a soft sound of appreciation.

"Mm, tasty. Just what you need to make you all relaxed and sleepy huh?" Unfortunately Ryan didn't feel sleepy at all with him so close, more a little bit nervous than anything. Thankfully she managed to pull off what she thought was a good poker face and smile back at him.

"Yep, cures what ails you, all right." They shared a quiet chuckle, just standing there sipping their drinks silently for a few minutes. Mitch was decidedly pleased with life at the moment, warm and comfortable and just spending time with a woman he happened to like very much, but couldn't approach because of the deal they had made. It was very irritating being a man of his word sometimes. He noticed Ryan drinking her chocolate a bit faster than he was, and wondered if she had burned her tongue on the steaming liquid. She certainly didn't look very comfortable about something. Maybe it wasn't the best time or place to discuss things though, with Abby sleeping so close by and the late hour calling him back to bed. He swirled the drink around and blew on it a few times for cooling effect, managing to finish it and then rinse the mug in the sink.

"I'll see you in the morning Ryan, hope you sleep better this time." He turned with a little wave and headed back upstairs, leaving her feeling just a little weak-kneed. The man needed to come with a warning label, being that handsome and cheerful so early in the morning… She finished up and rinsed her mug and the pot, quietly moving back toward the blanket nest she and Abby had made and snuggling down. When she did finally go to sleep, she kept seeing flashes of a certain lifeguard's friendly grin and bare chest in her dreams.

Light seeped through her closed eyelids the next morning, accompanied by the kitchen sounds of silverware and something sizzling. She yawned and sat up, looking around. Abby wasn't in their sleepover bed anymore, and she stood up, straightening the rumpled pajamas she wore. There stood Mitch at the stove working on something in a skillet, with Abby setting the table for three.

"Good morning," Ryan said, giving a stretch and walking over, and Mitch turned to grin at her. He wore a lightweight robe over his sleep pants now thank goodness, and it looked like he was making omelets. Chopped veggies were at the side in various bowls, along with shredded cheese.

"Good morning Ryan!" he responded, expertly flipping the folded over egg in the skillet. "Sit down, you're just in time for a thank you breakfast for all you've been doing to help since yesterday." His partner shuffled over to the table, looking bemused as Abby presented her with a glass of orange juice and placed a slice of buttered toast on a saucer, matching the same food offerings at the other two place settings. Mitch finished up quickly, and he and his blonde helper brought three plates of steaming omelets to the table, each one sprinkled with melted shredded cheese. The two chefs sat down , and she only then noticed Abby wearing a slightly oversized robe over her makeshift nightgown. It was a very cozy-feeling scene, like they were a family sitting down to eat together. Ryan had to admit, seeing Mitch cooking for them tugged at her heartstrings again, showing a domestic side to her female-magnet of a partner.

"Well, this looks good," she said, picking up her fork and taking a taste. Mm, it was, and she nodded her approval. "If the private eye business fails, maybe we could set up a restaurant. With my stew and your omelets, we could clean up." He laughed, starting on his own breakfast.

"Let's just take one thing at a time." It was silent for several minutes, aside from clinking silverware and glasses being put back onto the table. Then Mitch spoke again. "You know Abby, we need to see if you have any relatives we can contact. They'd probably want to know about your dad." She looked down at her plate, pushing some egg around with her fork.

"I guess… I never really met any relatives though. I think I have an aunt somewhere, but I don't even know where she lives or anything." Mitch put a gentle hand on Abby's shoulder, smiling reassuringly.

"We're private eyes, remember? This is the kind of thing we do for a living, we'll find something. But while we're out detecting, you can't stay here all by yourself." He leaned forward on the table, grinning. "How would you like to see the lifeguard headquarters?" She looked excited.

"I'll wear my lifeguard shirt!" Both adults laughed at seeing her exuberance before Mitch spoke again.

"Sounds like a plan. We'll finish eating, and then you get together something to take with you. We can take you there as soon as things are cleaned up." Ryan paused after a forkful of omelet.

"Mitch, I'd like to change into some fresh clothes, but I'll hurry right back and we can go together. I don't want you driving just yet after that rap on your head." He made a little face, but nodded.

"Point taken. I'll be cleaning up here while you go change. Now let's enjoy this delicious meal and get going!"

They drove to the agency after dropping Abby off, and Ryan lost no time in getting on the computer in search of Abby's relatives. It felt to Mitch like she was trying to put space between them, but he couldn't figure out why They'd been getting on pretty well the night before. But now she had changed into clothing of a more conservative cut, a feminine suit-jacket and a sheath style skirt rather than the casual styles she normally opted for. The morning light was cloudy, but was still enough to see by in spite of the early hour, and Mitch busied himself making a pot of coffee. He got a mug of the hot brew for both of them and set Ryan's next to her. She nodded her thanks.

"I'm not finding much, there is a sister, Abby's aunt on her mom's side of the family. Name is Margaret Stillwood, married to Richard Stillwood. Seems pretty respectable, she owns her own florist business, and her husband works with her." Mitch took a sip of his coffee, looking at the screen and sitting on the edge of her desk. He lightly fingered the butterfly bandages, gently scratching the surrounding skin.

"Hopefully she's the type who will take in her niece."

"I hope so too," Ryan responded with a sigh. "After all she's been through it would be terrible if…." Mitch put a hand on her arm, stopping her train of thought. He carefully set his mug down with a finger to his lips. Confused, Ryan looked in the direction he was focused on and was startled to see two shadows outside the office. They apparently tried the doorknob because it began to slowly turn, and Mitch moved quietly next to the door. Ryan almost held her breath, standing up and moving out of the line of sight as the door opened. The first man through was armed, gun held down at his side as if they expected the place to be empty. He had his arm grabbed, the element of surprise rendering him easily flipped to land with a loud thud on the hard floor, the wind knocked out of him. Mitch turned his attention to the second guy, who was more aware of the danger now than his friend had been. The lifeguard ducked a punch and then caught one in the stomach with a grunt. He recovered quickly, landing two punches of his own to the jaw, a quick left right combination. The guy staggered back into a desk, scattering items to the floor before launching himself at Mitch again in a tackle. His quick move almost caught the taller man off guard, but Mitch managed to brace himself and stop his opponent's momentum as they clinched. The attacker tried to pull the P.I. off his feet but was thwarted by a two-handed blow to the neck.

"Mitch!" Ryan's scared cry made him turn quickly almost in a crouch, stunned to see an arm around her throat and a gun to her head. While he'd been fighting the first two, a third man had crept into the room and snuck up on his partner. Now that he could actually focus on them instead of just trying to survive, he could see they looked the like the three who had committed the murder in the first place, and he had no doubts they could kill again. He straightened up with his arms held in a surrender position. Then a hard blow to his head turned everything black.

A voice pulled at Mitch from the darkness, although he wanted to stay in the quiet comfort of that black world. His head ached and the sound of his name being called only made it hurt worse. But it was a familiar sound, one that he felt compelled to respond to. So he slowly opened his eyes, cringing as he tried to focus. His partner's face swam into view, surrounded by a plain, unfurnished white room.

"Ryan…" he muttered, trying to sit up from a prone position on the floor, but his hands were tied behind his back and he didn't have enough leverage to get much farther than halfway up. "Oh… ow…." he winced, laying slowly back down, and her brow furrowed in sympathy.

"Mitch, are you okay? You've been out for an hour." He could see straighter at least once the initial blurriness had passed, and saw she was also tied up, although sitting with her back against the wall, knees bent and the soles of her shoes flat on the floor. Her fitted, business-like skirt afforded him a nice view of her legs and he grinned. She looked startled. "What are you grinning about? There's nothing funny about this." She looked slightly worried, maybe thinking the blow to his head had damaged something.

"I'm just enjoying it," he answered with a hint of mischief in his voice. The pain had subsided slightly, letting him indulge in a bit of good humor. She stared at him, looking confused.

"Enjoying what?"

"The view." His gaze rested on her thighs, and she seemed to finally realize what he was talking about, glaring at him and tucked her legs to the side so that she cut off some of the appealing sight.

"You are so juvenile sometimes," she huffed, tossing her head to get a strand of bangs out of her eyes, hair swishing loosely around her shoulders. Mitch wasn't at all repentant, glad to see she didn't appear so afraid now.

"Where are we?" he asked, content to stay prone for a while until his headache lessened further. She looked around the room.

"Well, they didn't bother trying to keep me from seeing anything, so I think it's safe to say we're not supposed to come out of this alive. We're in a house just off the beach, probably belongs to whoever hired those guys." Mitch nodded slowly, trying to sit up again and making it upright this time. He rolled his shoulders a little, easing the stiffness.

"They're the ones who killed Abby's dad," he told her, scooting sideways so he could lean back against the wall next to her. Ryan's dark eyes looked concerned again, so he forced a smile to his face. "This doesn't look too secure, no bars on the windows. We'll get out of here." She responded with a weak smile. The door slammed open at that moment, making them both jump. Two of the men who had attacked them in the agency walked in, moving toward their male captive.

"The boss wants to see you," the taller of the two sneered, and they hauled him to his feet by the arms. Still slightly off balance and thoroughly tied, Mitch could only let them drag him out of the room. They moved through an obviously expensive house and into another room, where he was shoved roughly onto a wooden chair, his bound hands placed behind the back and more rope securing them there. Mitch tugged slightly but without hope, managing to glare up at the two goons who positioned themselves at the door.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Buchannon." The cultured voice made him turn to look in the doorway. His eyes were caught and held by shapely feet in expensive shoes, up slim calves and curvy hips, skimmed over a well-formed bust, and stopped at a pair of brilliant green eyes that were expertly made up. He gaped slightly at the beautiful woman, completely taken off guard. She smiled at his confusion, coming inside and nodding to the two men. "So this is the P.I. who escaped from three of my best men, was wounded, and still managed to keep the other witness away from them. How interesting…" The men in the room with them shuffled their feet at her words, understanding she was commenting on their inability to deal with one man. She stood next to Mitch, tracing a finger along his jaw. The lifeguard finally managed to shake out of his stupor at the unexpected touch.

"Who are you?" He asked the first question that popped into his mind, and was met with another, more wicked, smile.

"That doesn't really concern you Mitch. As far as you're concerned, I'm in charge here, and I'm asking the questions. Now… where's the girl?" She stared into his blue eyes, meeting a resistance that didn't surprise her.

"Why would I want to tell you?" The question was put to her in an offhand manner with a grin, as if he were sitting there as her guest instead of a helpless prisoner. She leaned closer, tracing his lower lip with her finger.

"Because telling me would be so much easier for you than the alternative, trust me." Her words were dripping with sweetness and a hint of how much nicer things could be if he cooperated. Mitch could figure what that unsaid threat implied, but he was determined to not reveal Abby's location. He jerked his head away and sat there in stony silence, refusing to look at the woman. She straightened back up without anger. It was all just business to her, and if one approach didn't work, there was always the alternative. "Fine, it makes no difference to me. It just seems a shame to damage such a handsome face." She gestured and one of the men started pulling on a pair of leather gloves.

Ryan glanced up desperately as the door swung open again, flung so hard that it bounced a little off the wall. A tall, crumpled figure was shoved in and fell to the floor, landing on his side with his back to her and then rolling onto his face. She stared for a moment and then managed to move herself across the floor as the door was shut with a sneering laugh.

"Mitch?" She nudged at him with a hip, eliciting a groan from her fallen partner. A pained moan left his mouth as he eased himself onto his right side to face her. "My God Mitch…" Ryan stared in horror at him, taking in the broken, bloodied lips, split right cheek, and the reopened wound on his head from yesterday's encounter that was trickling bright red down his face. His once-pristine t-shirt was now stained with spattered blood, making him an almost pitiable figure. The lifeguard moved slowly, starting to sit up, but stopped with a hissing breath, teeth clenched. It was obvious that more than just his face had been touched, his ribs bruised at least, possibly cracked. "Mitch, are you…?" She stopped, since once the words left her mouth, it seemed silly to ask if he was okay when the answer was apparent to anyone. He chuckled, then winced again as the mouth movement stretched his broken lip.

"I will be, don't worry. But we have to get out of here, they're after Abby and we can only hold them off so much. Some investigation could find her with or without us, given enough time. My lifeguard connections are out there for anyone to see." Ryan nodded, wishing she could smooth the sweaty curls from his forehead.

"So what can we do Mitch?" He licked dry lips, ignoring the sting of salt in wounds, and grinned up at her.

"How flexible are you?"

Ryan groaned and strained, eyes tightly shut as she tried to concentrate.

"Just a little bit more Ryan, keep going," Mitch urged. She almost growled.

"Shut up and let me do it, will you?" She wriggled a little more on her back, her bound wrists moving painfully slowly along her butt, slim legs up in the air. If the situation weren't so serious, Mitch would have loved to have a camera to capture the moment. With a victorious gasp, her hands came free, and she immediately sat up, working at the knots with her teeth. Mitch let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding when the bonds gave way, and watched her quickly crawl over to him to work on the knots that held him.

"Nice work Ryan," he congratulated, flexing his fingers and rubbing his wrists in front of him when she'd finished untying him. He held an arm to his midsection as he got to his feet, swaying a little bit. His concerned partner moved closer, but he waved her away. "No, no, I'm fine. See if you can open the window, we're only on the first floor. They wouldn't have thought we would get untied, so if all goes well, we can just waltz out of here." She snorted softly at his flippant words, opening the inside lock on the window and raising it.

"The shape you're in, you'll be lucky to walk, much less waltz." She peered outside carefully. "We're really quite close to the sand here, maybe we can lose ourselves among the sights before they've noticed we're gone." Ryan glanced back at him with a twist of her lips. "Although the way you look we might attract a lot of attention." He rolled his eyes at her.

"We just need to get to the closest lifeguard tower and contact the police. After that we should be in the clear." Ryan put a hand on his arm and nudged him toward the window.

"You go first, Mitch. You're pretty banged up, and you know where we're going. Then I'll follow you out." It didn't set well with the tall P.I., but he nodded reluctantly. It was irritating when she was so logical and… right. Easing himself over, he managed to get over the ledge and through the window casing, taking a minute to look around and get his bearings. Thankfully, he recognized the beach, one near a very expensive and exclusive section of beachfront housing. Just as Mitch started away, he heard a little squeak from behind and turned around. Ryan had been grabbed from behind by the shortest of the three goons and was trying to break his hold. Mitch took a step toward the window, but just as he did his partner jerked her head back and caught her captor on the nose, making him let her loose and grab at the injury. Then she whirled around and landed a good right hook, dropping him where he stood. Mitch then watched her maneuver through the window in her skirt, laughing as she rubbed at the back of her head and winced a little.

"We should get going, I don't think any kind of alarm was sounded, but if they notice him missing we might not have as much time as we thought," she told Mitch.

"Well Ryan, I have to say I was wrong about you," he said as they hurried off, with her following just a couple of steps behind.

"What? What were you wrong about?" she asked, noticing that telltale glint in his eye. She just knew he was going to stick it to her.

"It's just that I'd always thought you were hard-headed. But apparently, your head wasn't as hard as I thought," he teased. She lightly punched his arm in retaliation, making him laugh and raise one hand in a small surrendering gesture, the other pressed lightly against his ribs to brace the muscle there against the fast pace they were setting. "Hey now, go easy on me. I'm wounded again." She huffed a sigh and rolled her eyes but made no further attempt at an attack. Fortunately the lifeguard tower he was heading to was only five minutes away and they made good time, even with Mitch's slightly slowed pace. The young man on duty at the time had a priceless look on his face as he recognized Mitch from Baywatch headquarters, and the older lifeguard had to stifle his amusement while Ryan explained the situation.

Mitch lightly touched his tongue to the inside of his lip, sighing as he reclined on the couch. He was set up with a blanket and bottle of water, and two soft pillows kept him comfortable against the armrest. Another hospital visit had ended with orders of semi-bedrest for a few days, and he was already bored after one day. Ryan had taken Abby to go get some pizza and they were due back any minute, which was fortunate. He was ready for a meal and a movie to break up the tedium. The door opened and Mitch perked up, glancing over at the entryway.

"Ah, the hunters have returned with food!" he said grandly with a grin. Abby laughed as they brought the box over to the coffee table.

"You're so silly," she told him before giving him a big hug, mindful to be gentle of his bruises. "I'll wash up and get some plates!" He patted her fondly on the shoulder as she headed for the kitchen, smiling up at Ryan. In the background water began running.

"Have you heard anything yet?" he asked in an undertone. She nodded her head, sitting down on the couch at his feet.

"Yeah. The precinct called while we were out. Apparently, the three guys who killed Abby's father turned themselves in. But they're refusing to say who the woman was at the house. That house has been emptied, by the way. And it was rented with cash by someone whose name doesn't even exist. It's pretty much a dead end." Plates clinked as Abby began to get them down, and Ryan glanced in the direction of the kitchen. "Her aunt has been contacted. She wants to come and get her tomorrow." Mitch nodded, looking a bit downcast. He loved having the girl in his house, but blood relations would be much better for her. He forced a smile on his face as the blonde came in carrying her small load of dishes.

"Thanks Abby. Now we can get set up. Take your seats ladies, and let the fun begin!" The good humor was infectious and they were soon enjoying a laughter-filled relaxing evening.

The next afternoon, Mitch's house wasn't nearly so full of happiness. Both he and Abby were sad to be saying goodbye, and she stood next to where he was slightly reclined on the couch, twisting her fingers together. Ryan had already wished their little friend well and was standing near the door, touched by the sweet scene even as she kept an eye out for the girl's aunt.

"I don't want to leave," Abby said softly, and Mitch reached a hand out to take both of hers.

"It's not like we'll never talk, or never see each other again. We'll write letters, and maybe even call each other. Your aunt okayed it already." He wanted to reassure her, although he didn't want her to leave either. Mitch loved children, and his home seemed warmer and happier when he was caring for some small person. "Just think good thoughts, okay?" He held his arm out and they hugged, her blonde hair tickling his nose. "And hey, there's always the chance you could come for a visit. Maybe even see lifeguard headquarters again." Abby grinned.

"Yeah!" She looked a little more serious then, and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. "I love you Mitch…" His throat closed up and he had to clear it with a little cough.

"I love you too sweetie. You better take care of yourself." She nodded somberly with a hint of a smile.

"Oh, I think this is her," said Ryan suddenly. A car had just pulled up and a man and woman got out, hurrying toward the door. It opened before they could reach it, and Ryan smiled at them.

"Margaret Stillwood?" The question was directed to the woman, who nodded and looked anxious.

"Yes, that's me. Although my friends just call me Maggie." They were waved in and stood uncertainly just inside before Maggie's eyes caught sight of Abby. She put a hand to her mouth and smiled. "Abby, the last time I saw you, you were just a baby. You look so much like your mother." The girl stepped forward hesitantly.

"You're my aunt?" she asked, receiving a happy, tear-filled nod.

"Yes I am honey, but you can call me Aunt Maggie if you want." Abby seemed to waver there a few seconds, and then she moved forward and grabbed her aunt around the waist.

"Hello Aunt Maggie." The words were muffled against the woman's body, and the girl was enveloped in a warm hug. Mitch was happy to see that Abby's aunt looked as loving as could be, and her husband was standing to the side beaming so widely that his cheeks must hurt. Mitch and Ryan had found out that the couple had no children, so it looked as if Abby would be a welcome addition to the household. After a bit of small talk, during which the Stillwoods thanked both private eyes profusely for the help they had given Abby, the new little family departed. Mitch sighed at the closing door, and Ryan moved toward him and lightly rubbed his shoulder.

"She's going to have a good home, huh?" He nodded, a slightly faraway look in his eyes. She smiled a little. "You make a good dad, Mitch. Maybe you'll get the chance to do it for real again someday." He surprised her by laughing softly, eyes regaining some of their usual twinkle.

"It's possible, if I find the right woman. And if she'll have me." He grinned up at her. "You never know, I might have already found her and just don't know it yet." Mitch was pleased to see his pretty partner looked surprised, as if she wasn't sure how to take that statement. Before she could get too uncomfortable and make an excuse to leave, he downplayed the moment. "Now that I think of it, Donna could make a good wife and mother, right? Or your sister has potential, if she could just get her act together. I think she liked me…" He put a thoughtful expression onto his face, as if he were contemplating his options. Ryan gaped at him, and that befuddled expression made him lose his straight-faced facade. He started laughing, cradling his ribs with an arm as he bent over with mirth.

"You are such a pain in the butt!" she cried, grabbing one of his pillows and smacking him in the head with it.

"Oof! No fair attacking the invalid!" Mitch forgot all sadness and pain as he and Ryan play-fought with his small arsenal of pillows, their laughter and shouts filling the house.

The End


End file.
